Before
by Sig Sauer
Summary: Before Artemis Fowl, civilians Holly Short and Trouble Kelp lived normal lives. These are the events  in Diary/Journal format  that came before Artemis Fowl. This is probably not HxT, but it can be if reviews want that. If not, AxH in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**I attribute the game of Crunchball to the Fan fiction Writer Humhallelujah. The story will most likely NOT be Trouble / Holly, but they will be friends. Personally, I am not a shipper and will succumb to fan pressure. Ergo, you choose how I ship. I will update after five reviews; I have the next chapter read. The moment the fifth review comes... new chapter.**

**Also, to get into the LEP Academy, you have to apply at Traffic (Retcon; I noted from later Chapters. [And Look up Retcon])**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl or any associated characters. **

Holly Short's Diary:

I'm not a sissy anymore. Lipstick and dresses are gone; so don't expect me to hang on to dear diary and romance obsession. My name is Holly Short, and this isn't the story of me become a model, it's me becoming one of the best LEPrecons there are. But, to make it authentic, I'm going to start from the days I wasn't the best of officers and speak of when I was fresh out of adolescence, entering the academy.

When I was sixty, still a youngster by fairy standards, I was finishing the last year of mandatory education. I was the girl who hung out with guys, but didn't flirt with them. In fact, any feminine friends of mine were love struck by any one of the jocks. I wasn't going to associate with anyone like that. For instance, I once found one of their diaries. I was scarred by the girly obsession with men.

The year was coming to an end, and I was struggling to achieve the fairy equivalent of A-minuses. The way our mark system work was percentile based; and then school based. So, I was around the 91st percentile at a slightly above average school. The school was rated by a percentile system, too. Those two percentiles were averaged to see where I was in the overall fairy population.

The year finally _did _came to an end, and I achieved 93rd percentile through sheer effort. I wasn't academically talented. I was, however, the fourth best dunker at crunchball. There was one other event that I'll remember. I remember when they threw us into a simulated world. Every student watched the same bully bullying the same victim, but everyone felt alone. I was the second person that reacted this way, and the other was a boy, of course. His younger brother kept saying "Mommy won't like your violent tendencies." I jabbed the bully's solar plexus and broke his nose. Needless to say, this got the attention of my teachers and a firm talking to.

So, graduation. What an odd thing. Fairies, unlike humans, wear whatever they think expresses themselves to graduation. I remember every other girl wore a miniskirt. I wore black jeans and a t-shirt. The t-shirt was awesome, with LEP in steel blue and a pair of wings. I knew where I wanted to work. LEPrecon. And, like everything else I tried, I knew I would succeed.

Trouble Kelp's Journal:

Oh, where to start. I've wanted to keep a journal since I was mid thirties, but now I will. I'm beginning my sixties, and I've decided to keep track of my day-to-day thoughts and what goes on in life. I'm finally graduating school and applying for the Lower Elements Police Academy. If I had to evaluate myself, I'd say I'm prone to action and intensely determined to do the right thing.

Unlike my illegally drinking peers and flirtatious "friends" I have been dedicated to school-work. Fighting for 94th percentile with some girl, I had the brains to get into the LEP. And, in all humility, I had the muscle. Since I was a mere toddler, around fifteen, I've wanted to be one of the elite LEPrecon agents who save the fairy race by hiding our existence. At thirty-two I established a physical regime I have followed, and I eat healthier than most fairy health advocates.

My name is Alexander Kelp, but only my mother and younger brother Grub know this. Everyone I consider a friend, enemy, fairy or animal knows me as Trouble. I'm not a trouble-maker, but it just seems to fit me. And I have gotten in trouble a few times with the school, but only when doing what my moral compass demanded.

Overall, life's pretty perfect for me. The only nuisances are my brother and my mother. Neither of them mean poorly, either. I just seems their big mouths get them into trouble. I remember when Grub and I were at the bank during a holdup. A few goblins with stolen Neutrinos broke in, and held the teller on the wall.

Grub, of course, ran outside and yelled "Police! Police! The bank is being robbed." One of the goblin opened fire on the young elf. I charged in and executed a chop to the solar plexus I had once heard legendary LEPrecon officer Julius Root performed. I then flicked the dial on his illegally acquired Neutrino to rare and fried the other goblins. Ever since then, since such heroic feelings, I've wanted to be in the Lower Elements Police. What could possibly hold me back?


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

**I attribute the game of Crunchball to the Fan fiction Writer Humhallelujah. The story will most likely NOT be Trouble / Holly, but they will be friends. Personally, I am not a shipper and will succumb to fan pressure. Ergo, you choose how I ship.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl or any associated characters. **

Holly Short's Diary

Today, I applied for Traffic. But let me start from the beginning.

I woke up around five-thirty Mud Person time for my morning fitness program. Over the last few centuries, the people have programmed themselves to work on daylight, or Artificial Daylight, instead of their natural nocturnal life. We hope to be on the surface someday, and the People could cooperate better with the Mud Men if we worked on the same time frame as they do. Too bad they aren't considerate enough to switch to nocturnal time.

After waking, I took a shower. Fairies, living isolated from pollutants, shower in the purest water. We allow the water to evaporate and saturate the shower's air before condensing at the knob on the shower's roof. From there, a built-in magnetic field winds the water into a gentle stream rolling down.

Fifteen minutes later, I found myself driving my citizen transport towards police plaza. My transport was basically a motorcycle with a dome surrounding me, packed with gel pads for comfort and support. Each of these aerobykes, as they are called, can either drive or fly. With a touch of a button, wings extend from within the wheels and what appears to be an exhaust pipe becomes a miniature jet turbine (of course it isn't an exhaust pipe, the People use clean energy).

The gates of Police Plaza are magnificent. For those who haven't seen them, they are the symbol of the People's prosperity. Two golden poles stand five meters apart, and emerald-encrusted silver gates hang between them. The road becomes shimmering obsidian on the Plaza side of the gate, and elegant sidewalks ramp upwards to be on the same level with the aerobykes and other vehicles passing through.

I took a left at the split in the obsidian road. On the left, a road branched toward Traffic. The middle lane smoothly continued towards Recon. And on the right, there was a sign claiming Retrieval was only fifty feet away.

As I rode down towards the left sides parking lot, I spotted a familiar fairy exiting his royal blue aerobykes.

"Holly! I didn't know you would be applying for Traffic today! And I like your red aerobyke. It reminds me of the human Ferraris," shouted a handsome elf.

"Hi Trouble. I figured I ought to get a head start on most people by skipping career year… I know I want to be in Recon and I don't need a year of career counseling to tell me that," I said, pleased that he was here too. I didn't know Trouble well, but I knew he was around my mental equal and we had both been on the top crunchball team. "I'm a bit nervous, though."

"Well," came Trouble's reply, "why don't we go in together? I could use the company; my nerves have been awful. I almost didn't come today."

I parked my aerobyke and we walked into the Traffic building. At the door, a burly gnome divided us and sent both of us to be interviewed by the current head of Traffic, Ethan Bridges.

Trouble was interviewed for around twenty minutes before he was sent out, beaming, and told me it was my turn.

The room was dimly lit.

Trouble Kelp's Journal

Today, I awoke crack-of-artificial-dawn to complete my three-mile run before preparing for my Traffic Application. For the past three months, I've put myself through training equivalent to that of LEPrecon. I've been told the qualifying fitness for Recon is absurd, so I've been pumping iron and running for hours on end.

On the track, I ran into Junior Commander Julius Root. I've known him since he spoke at Haven High School, and he was the one who told me the fitness requirements for Recon.

"Commander Root! How's your run going?" I asked.

"Very well. Shouldn't you be focusing on your own run?" he said.

"Yes sir. I was going to allow myself an easy week though, having just graduated high school."

"An easy week, huh? How about this for easy: Traffic is recruiting for the Academy now. If you ride in that aerobyke of yours, you may make it," Root stated.

"T-t-thank y-you, sir." I stuttered, already running at breakneck speed for my aerobyke.

When Commander Root spoke at my school, he told us to always be prepared. And so, I had taken this to heart. I kept a change of clothes, spare communicator, civilian helmet and nuclear batteries in the trunk of my aerobyke. I quickly changed and headed towards Police Plaza.

Just as I stepped out of my byke, I saw Holly Short entering the parking lot.

"Holly! I didn't know you would be applying for Traffic today! And I like your red aerobyke. It reminds me of the human Ferraris," I shouted.

"Hi Trouble. I figured I ought to get a head start on most people by skipping career year… I know I want to be in Recon and I don't need a year of career counseling to tell me that," Holly said, and I was glad I wasn't the only one trying to get a jumpstart on my career. "I'm a bit nervous, though." Once again, she was echoing my feeling.

"Well," I replied, "why don't we go in together? I could use the company; my nerves have been awful. I almost didn't come today."

We walked in together, and I was sent to interview with head of Traffic Ethan Bridges first. A tall elf, which gave me some comfort, Bridges led me into the criminal interviewing room. The irony that both new officers and criminals were interviewed in the same room escaped me at the time; I was too focused on not breaking out in a nervous sweat.

"Alexander 'Trouble' Kelp, I assume you know you only get one shot at success. After this interview, I either send you for training at the Academy or you get a job sweeping floors at McVegetables," Commander Bridges stated, and like Commander Root, Bridges was very rarely accused of being politically correct. "I am going to ask you one question, and you are going to honestly answer. I know it will be honest because the LEP's technical consultant, Foaly, will be monitoring your heart rate and brainwaves. Foaly, come in and wire Kelp up."

The centaur, towering over all elves at around six feet tall, entered through the wall. I assume the wall was holographic, but I cannot be sure. He proceeded to place wires on my wrist, neck, and temples.

"All set, Ethan," said the centaur.

"Commander Bridges, you mean, you insolent pony."

"Yes, of course sir," replied the 'pony.'

"So, Kelp, when and why did you gain ambitions to be in the LEP? I assume you want to be in Recon or Retrieval; both work together."

Before I answered, I took a second to remember the layout of the Lower Elements Police. Traffic was stand-alone, and therefore had its own commander. Recon and Retrieval were both under Commander Julius Root, and worked together. The Recon officer was like a scout, and the heavy infantry was provided by Retrieval. I wanted to work in Retrieval.

"I was merely thirty-two at the time, sir," I say, now age sixty. "My mother was retrieving some gold from the bank. A group of goblins entered and held up the bank. They pulled Neutrinos on the teller and told her to give them the bank's gold. My idiot brother tried to call the police, and I sprang into action to stop the goblins from attacking him. I incapacitated one with a chop to the solar plexus, and flicked his Neutrino to rare and fried the other goblins. From then on, I've wanted to protect the innocent," I recalled.

"Just as your file says. Alright, report to the academy tomorrow morning at daybreak. And send Ms. Short in on your way out."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**

**I attribute the game of Crunchball to the Fan fiction Writer Humhallelujah. The story will most likely NOT be Trouble / Holly, but they will be friends. Personally, I am not a shipper and will succumb to fan pressure. Ergo, you choose how I ship. (This is this notes last appearance, but there will be crunchball later.**

**Now, I hate to add to my uniform Author's Note, but there is something else that could be a problem. Holly Short and Trouble Kelp are not on the exact timeline. Trouble usually ends later in the day than Holly. I'm trying to pull this back but it's not a precise science.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl or any associated characters. **

Holly Short's Diary:

The menace in the air as I walk to the door of LEPtraffic Commander Ethan Bridges' office is almost palpable. I find myself wanting to wring my hands in anxiety. But, in a show of professionalism, I don my best poker face and keep my ferrety hands by my sides.

Left foot, right foot, left foot again, right foot again becomes my mantra. Every single action took more effort than any other time. Releasing my long-held breath and drawing in a shuddering breath, I open the door.

"Miss Holly Short. Now, you've sat, idly wasting time, outside my door while Academy Recruit 'Trouble' Kelp was interviewed. Correct?"

Although I didn't know at the time, Bridges used this technique to judge whether they would stand up and fight for what is right or obey as a sheep might. Or whatever those white things the humans shave are.

"Sir, with all respect, I was physically idle but mentally active. I was formulating my answers for possible questions," I said in monotone.

"Very good, very good," Bridges murmured to himself. "Now, if your squad was under heavy goblin attack, and your commander was captured, what would you do?"

This one threw me a bit off guard. But, I had to be honest. "I would take point and charge the goblins. Their fireballs are inaccurate and would, for the most part, miss. Without the commander, we would be unable to complete the mission."

The commander, by this I mean Bridges, was startled. His eyes were wide, almost bulging, and his mouth hung agape. Quickly, he recovered control, and chuckled quietly.

"Well then, go ahead and find Mr. Kelp outside, and take him two doors down to the aptitude testing room. There, you will be tested for aptitude, as the name alludes. Specifically, we want to look for special piloting, shooting, leadership, and stress-management talent," he said.

"Yes, sir," I said, and left the room.

Trouble was waiting outside, and we briskly walked to the 'aptitude-testing room.' Both of us were too nervous to talk much, just a few short sentences. The door loomed mere feet from us, and I knew I could handle whatever I faced. I swung the door open and trudged in, Trouble at my heels.

I almost immediately stopped, and Trouble nearly walked into me. The room was gigantic! On one side, a virtual shooting range challenged a couple other wannabe LEP officers. Parallel to the shooting range was a row of shuttle simulators, powered up and ready for use. On the back wall of the room was another door, flanked by two burly gnomes. I wonder what that room was for.

And so the test begins…

Trouble Kelp's Journal:

Quickly thanking the commander, I head outside and send Holly in. Then, I settle myself into one of the modern chairs outside. The People have an odd choice in chairs. This one was like a bean bag on legs with a firm back rest.

As I sat into this orthopedic monstrosity, I thought about how Holly's interview would go. I knew she would pass; the girl was pretty amazing. And if she didn't, the Lower Elements Police would've lost a good officer.

The door opened with a _swoosh _and a madly grinning, excited, and overjoyed elf practically skipped out. I smiled briefly; Holly skipping was a rare, rare sight for anyone. I don't think it had ever happened, and may not happen again.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually, knowing the answer.

"It went well, I thought the Commander would be volatile and cold. But he seemed to actually care about the questions he asked!"

"That's great, Holly," I said, a twinge of nerves leaking into my voice.

Together we strode down the hall, and opened the heavy door. Inside, there was a massive room that could've houses a lain-sideways Mud Man skyscraper. Well, a small one. Hyperbole always was my favorite poetic device.

The size seemed insignificant in the face of all the technological marvels of the room. As I stood in the middle, a shooting range and a shuttle simulator flanked me. Directly forward was an iron door, complete with retina scanners.

_This, _I thought to myself, _is going to be a very interesting day._


End file.
